


so it goes

by emkat97



Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's 8, Ocean's Eight
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Heist Wives, Mentions of Taylor Swift, Swearing, Team as Family, and lou is aloof and emo, but could they be any more married???, deb is an irrational lovestruck teen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 00:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14943816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emkat97/pseuds/emkat97
Summary: "I love you.""Your wig's messed up."In which Debbie realizes that moving from...whatever they were...to an actual relationship with Lou is proving to be more difficult than she had imagined.Set after That Look + through the end of the film."you did a number on me, but honestly, baby, who’s counting?”





	so it goes

**Author's Note:**

> i have not written fanfiction in literally SEVEN YEARS. but these two are so good. enjoy, and please leave comments!!!!! feedback is my favorite thing ever!!!!!!
> 
> my apologies that it's so long. i debated separating it into three chapters, but i like the flow of it as one piece. hopefully the formatting is okay, i've never posted here before!

One hundred fifty million dollars.

 

And change.

 

Debbie leaned against the mailbox and began rummaging through her clutch for her Chanel lip gloss – only 30 dollars, quite a steal (literally – and for once, she didn’t have to grab it herself; turns out Constance was the only pickpocket she knew with a penchant for Mary Kay). As she swiped the wand across her lips, she couldn’t help but smile and breathe a much-needed sigh of relief. They had actually pulled it off. A plan that had taken her almost six years to dream up became a reality in a matter of hours. All the planning, the scheming, the dreaming...it was over.

 

And no one even knew the best part yet.

 

Except for Amita, and Lou, of course. Lou had known from the very moment their group of seven was assembled that this was going to be much bigger than any of them had initially thought. All of them would be set for life, and Debbie would never have to pull a job like this again...right? Right.

 

Maybe.

 

Probably not.

 

We’ll see.

 

Debbie jumped as she felt hands tugging at the bottom of her dress; moving some of the flowing train to the side, she found herself face-to-face with a little girl who looked to be no older than four years old, staring up at her with wide eyes.

 

“You look like a princess!” The girl held on to Debbie’s dress like it was made of pure gold (and to be fair, parts of it probably were).

 

“Nora! I’m so sorry,” said a woman Debbie presumed to be the little girl’s mother, whisking her away and taking hold of her hand as they strode off. The little girl turned around and gave Debbie a tiny wave, which Debbie returned with a soft smile.

 

Staring after them, Debbie couldn’t help but feel a bit lonely. Kids had never really been a part of her life plan, but she’d had years to think about what she wanted, and she’d be lying if she said that the thought of domestic bliss hadn’t crossed her mind for approximately 30 seconds. Women were always supposed to “have it all”. Isn’t that what she deserved too? Some sort of love story that wouldn’t end up in heartbreak and unhappiness for once? Hell, even Danny managed to keep Tess around for a decent amount of time. _Danny_ , for Christ’s sake.

 

If there was one thing that Debbie had learned from him, and this had proven useful time and time again during her prison stint, it was that you have to find the people you can trust and stick to them through thick and thin. Doing it alone will be the death of you. You find the right partner, and everything else should go off without a hitch. You won’t run into problems, you know you won’t rat each other out to anyone under any circumstance, and why would you need to? You CERTAINLY won’t get caught.

 

Something that WILL get you caught (hypothetically) is leaving said partner due to feelings you’ve been sorting through for the past fifteen years and ditching them for someone with absolutely nothing to offer, save for empty promises of love and an okay jawline.

 

_Jesus._

 

Lou had every right in the world to hate her.

 

And maybe that’s why Debbie did it. To get a rise out of her. To get her to finally take some damn initiative in their relationship and _steal her back_. Which, of course, Lou didn’t do. She was a loner in every sense of the word. Debbie was surprised they had stayed together for as long as they did.

 

The night Debbie had asked Lou to be her partner, she had shown up at her apartment with their favorite Chinese takeout, determined to finally get a yes even though Lou had already declined her offer twice before. Over lo-mein and chicken fried rice, Debbie had explained the job and its benefits in excruciating detail, and when she finally felt like she had nothing left to offer, she nodded and simply said, “I’m in if you’re in.” With that, a smile slowly crept over Lou’s face.

 

The rest was history.

 

Fifteen _years_ of history, to be exact. Fifteen years of cons and laughter and sex and bad reality TV and lots more late-night takeout and absolutely zero commitment from either side.

 

Maybe that’s where they went wrong in the first place.

 

Debbie wasn’t shocked when she didn’t hear from her during her time in prison, just strangely disappointed. She had been carrying around a hollow feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach ever since she had left Lou in that parking lot, Claude staring at both of them from the driver’s seat of his car.

 

“You’re just not what I need anymore.”

 

Could she have been anymore callous? Here was this woman – a _perfect_ woman, Debbie’s _ideal_ woman – who had stood by her side through all the bullshit, and here was Debbie, turning around and walking away, and for what? Debbie wasn’t sure. She was expecting a sarcastic response, a “fuck you”, _anything_. So when Lou remained silent, Debbie knew she had caused some serious damage. But it was too late to turn back.

 

There wasn’t a single day that went by in jail that Debbie didn’t wonder what her life might have been like if she had never met Claude. And when she called Lou for the first time after being released, she was half expecting the number to be unreachable.

 

But she picked up the phone, and it was like nothing had changed. Lou had the same slow drawl, the same laugh, and they were back to flirting and scheming almost immediately. It was like she was waiting for Debbie’s call, almost six years later. It hadn’t taken long to get her on board, or to fall back into her bed. Debbie had apologized (poorly, she’ll admit), but Lou waved it off, like Debbie hadn’t screwed her over completely and left her destitute, puzzlingly eager to forgive.

 

Maybe Lou was just as desperate to get back to business as Debbie was.

 

And now they’d achieved this magnificent, special, terrifying, daunting thing together, and their relationship was...different. Strained. And as great as the sex was (and would probably always be, Debbie admitted to herself), every time Lou walked into the room, you could cut the tension between them with a knife. And everyone knew; she’d noticed Rose giving them both strange little looks during the pregnant pause that followed every single time the two of them were able to finish each other’s sentences.

 

They’d barely had time to get on the same page with each other, what with the heist looming so close. But now...

 

Debbie Ocean was determined to get an answer tonight.

 

And maybe it was the high from the heist, maybe it was the champagne, maybe it was the sheer amount of blinding sparkle her eyes had absorbed in those past few hours, but she just knew that it was an answer she was going to like.

 

The sound of stiletto boots clacking on the sidewalk across the street brought Debbie out of her trance.

 

_Speak of the devil._

One of the things that Debbie could not STAND about Lou was how she picked her wardrobe choices with absolutely no concern for anyone else’s well-being. Not everyone could pull off a shimmering, emerald-green jumpsuit, but here she was, walking across the street with that damn smirk on her face and the swagger of someone who knew just how good she looked.

 

The two stood across from each other, staring, daring the other to speak first, until Lou finally yielded.

 

“You look good,” she said, resting her hands on her hips, scanning Debbie up and down.

 

“I could say the same thing about you. Although you better make sure you return that to Mick Jagger before he wakes up or else we’re _fucked_.”

 

Lou snorted. “Please. I wear it better than he ever could and you know it.”

 

(Debbie did know it.)

 

“So,” Lou began, adjusting the plunging neckline on the jumpsuit, “where is the illustrious Deborah Ocean taking me tonight, pray tell? Better be good, I have a brand-new bottle of Hennessy with my name on it back at the loft.”

 

“You’ll see. Wait, Hennessy? You still drink that shit?” Debbie glanced at Lou out of the corner of her eye.

 

Lou shrugged. “Gets me drunk. And after tonight, I am planning on being very, very drunk for at least the next three days.” She blew a strand of hair away from her face and let her thumbs dangle in her pockets as they turned another corner.

 

“Because you’re so useful when you’re drunk.”

 

“I seem to recall you finding me _quite_ useful when we were drunk in Prague,” Lou muttered, gently nudging Debbie as they walked.

 

Debbie groaned. “Oh God, don’t remind me. That whole week was a disaster. Danny walking in on us was just icing on the cake.”

 

“The look on your face _was_ pretty priceless. And didn’t he give you a thumbs-up before leaving the room?” Lou shook her head. “Classic Danny.”

 

Debbie rolled her eyes. “Classic _asshole_. He used to pull that kind of shit all the time when we were kids.”

 

A heavy silence hung in the air as they realized who they were talking about.

 

“Deb, I –”

 

Shaking her head and stopping to shake some leaves out of the bottom of her dress (she was really starting to regret this whole floor-length thing), Debbie curtly replied, “It’s fine.”

 

Lou stared at her as Debbie increased her walking speed ever so slightly.

 

“Do you think he’s really dead?”

 

“Can we not talk about this right now? You’re killing the mood.” With that, she tugged on Lou’s arm and pulled her into the lobby of the Four Seasons.

 

As the two women walked through the crowd of people, they garnered more than a few stares and dropped jaws. Maybe it was their outfits, maybe it was the way Debbie held tight to Lou’s hand, but people were talking, and for once, Debbie didn’t give a shit what they were saying.

 

On the elevator, they both stared straight ahead. “Fake name?” wondered Lou.

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Siminowski check out tomorrow at noon.”

 

Lou smiled. “Of course they do.”

 

Approaching the penthouse, Lou opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it again as Debbie pushed open the door, pulled her inside, kicked the door shut with the heel of her shoe, and pressed her against the wall.

 

Lou’s eyes gleamed. “Prison hasn’t changed you, I take it?”

 

“Not a damn bit.”

 

The kiss was like a long-awaited release, and there was something ingrained in it that contained multitudes that Debbie wasn’t expecting. Something like tenderness and warmth that stirred in her stomach and traveled up through her arms and out her fingertips. Sex with Lou was great, but _this_ was the shit she thought about in solitary.

 

Five years, eight months, twelve days.

 

 _Damn_ , it was good to be back.

 

Debbie broke the kiss and they stood like that for a while, in their own little bubble, Lou’s arms gently splayed over Debbie’s shoulders and Debbie’s hands on Lou’s hips, until Lou glanced to the side and her eyes widened.

 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

 

Squirming her way out of Debbie’s grip, Lou moved towards the bed in the middle of the room, which, she hadn’t noticed until that moment, was covered with boxes and boxes of Chinese takeout.

 

Debbie reached a hand onto the bed and popped a sushi roll into her mouth. “Figured we’d go all out. For old times’ sake.”

 

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity until Lou burst out laughing, Debbie following not long after. It didn’t take long for the two women to fall into complete hysterics, landing next to each other on the bed, spilling duck sauce on the sheets. As Lou wiped tears from her eyes, Debbie interlocked their fingers.

 

“I missed this, you know.”

 

Lou sighed as Debbie brushed her thumb over the back of her hand. “So did I.”

 

Before Debbie could stop the words from leaving her mouth, she spoke again: “I missed _you._ I really missed you.” A deep breath. “I love you.”

 

Debbie felt Lou tense up beside her.

 

_Shit._

She hadn’t meant it to come out so straightforward and sappy. It wasn’t like her, it wasn’t like _them_. For them, sentimentality was poisonous and indifference was an aphrodisiac.

 

_Shit shit shit._

 

Lou reached up and tugged at Debbie’s blonde hair before swiftly moving towards the balcony at the opposite end of the room. “Your wig’s messed up.”

 

For once, Debbie Ocean was at a loss for words.

 

She pulled the wig off the rest of the way and set it down on the bed, shaking out her brunette waves as she joined Lou, who was looking rather pensive whilst gripping the rail at the edge of the balcony. Lou turned, staring at Debbie with icy blue eyes. When she spoke, she sounded tired.

 

“What are we doing, Deb?”

 

Funny, that was the same question Debbie had been wanting to ask Lou from the moment she picked up the phone two months ago. And for some reason, whatever words she had had just moments before refused to make themselves known again.

 

Instead of answering, she closed the gap between them on the ledge and stared out at the night sky.

 

Twenty minutes later, they took a taxi home in silence.

 

*

 

The next day, Debbie rifled through Lou’s record collection, not looking for anything in particular, just anything to keep her hands busy and her mind off the night before.

 

So much for getting answers.

 

Glancing back towards the couch, Debbie was able to smile. It was admittedly very nice to see the crew so happy; even Tammy was indulging in a glass of wine. Rose was passed out, Nine Ball was smoking, and Amita and Constance were fawning over the newest addition to their ragtag group of cons, one Daphne Kluger.

 

It had only been a matter of time before Daphne caught on, and Debbie and Lou had to explain her involvement to the rest of the group. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the situation at hand, and it’s not like Daphne would pose any major threat to their operation. In fact, she was proving to be quite useful. Debbie could actually see a lot of herself in Daphne. There was a certain resiliency and determination to her that made Debbie sit up and take notice.

 

They also both wanted to see Claude Becker in prison, but that was inconsequential.

 

“No offense or anything, but you wear a lot of leather. Like, more leather than should ever be appropriate on a human being.”

 

Daphne’s voice rose above the din and Debbie turned to see who she was addressing, even though she already knew. Lou, who was coming down the stairs, stopped short and smirked.

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, darling.” She made her way towards the kitchenette and grabbed one of the donuts that Tammy had picked up that morning.

 

“Uhhh, you _should_ take that as a compliment because you always look _hot!”_ Constance exclaimed as the rest of the women gave a whoop of support, Tammy and Amita clinked their glasses together, and Lou laughed. Debbie bit her lip as she felt her cheeks flush.

 

Continuing to leaf through the records as the rest of the group went back to their conversations, Debbie was surprised that she had forgotten just how good Lou’s taste in music was. Sure, she might be bumping nothing but techno and EDM at her club these days, but Lou was a classic rock girl through and through. The Clash, The Who, Journey, all of them brought back memories that made Debbie’s heart sing. She wondered if Lou still played guitar.

 

As she ran a finger over the cover of Fleetwood Mac’s _Rumours_ , a familiar voice came from behind. “’Landslide’ still your favorite song?”

 

Lou’s hair was disheveled and her eyes were a little darker than usual. She must not have gotten much sleep last night.

 

“Stevie wrote a good one.”

 

“That she did.”

 

Lou was so close to her that if she just reached out, she’d be able to wrap her arms around Debbie’s waist, pull her close, and all would be right in the world. Debbie had never been more infuriated by Lou’s lack of awareness of personal space than this very moment.

 

“Although it can’t be better than any of the songs on _this_ album,” Debbie started, pulling out a copy of Taylor Swift’s _1989_ and raising an eyebrow.

 

Lou quickly grabbed the record out of Debbie’s hands and shoved it in the back of the stack. “Not sure how that got there,” she mumbled.

 

“I find it amazing how you can be such a great thief and such a bad liar at the same time.”

 

“Don’t give me shit, ‘Blank Space’ was one of the best songs of 2014.” (At this, Amita shouted “I SECOND THIS!” from across the room.)

 

Debbie shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

 

Lou stuffed her hands in her pockets, her telltale sign of feeling uncomfortable. “Right.”

 

They avoided eye contact for a good 30 seconds before Lou cleared her throat and said, “I saw Rusty the other day. Sends his love.”

 

This peaked Debbie’s interest. “Really? That seems like a little too good of a coincidence.”

 

“Yeah, well, he’s looking to run a job.” Lou suddenly became very fascinated with her nails. “Wants my help.”

 

Debbie could feel the heat bubbling in her stomach, pure, blinding anger and jealousy about to spill over and flood the entire apartment. Her pointed reply: “Really.”

 

“He said he thinks it’s time for me to hit the big-time. As if the Met wasn’t big-time enough.” Lou rolled her eyes. “I don’t know, I was thinking about doing it.”

 

And with that, the floodgates were open.

 

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?!” Debbie could hear her voice go shrill and completely out of control, but she was seeing far too much red to care about keeping it together at this particular moment. Of course the only person to cause her to spiral like this would be Lou, of _course._ What the fuck was _happening_ to her?

 

A hush fell over the loft as six other heads swiveled towards the pair. Daphne’s brow furrowed and Rose’s eyes as grew wide as dinner plates.

 

“Oh boy,” mumbled Amita, “here we go.”

 

Daphne pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the standoff happening in front of them. “I’m sorry, what exactly is happening right now?”

 

Lou took a tiny step towards Debbie, palms upward as if surrendering, trying anything to appease the seething brunette. “Deb, calm down –”

 

“ _Excuse me?”_

“Yeah, you should _not_ have told her to calm down,” piped up Constance as the rest of the ladies cringed and shook their heads in agreement. Debbie and Lou shot daggers towards them and Tammy quickly got up from her seat on the couch.

 

“O- _kay!_ Let’s, um, let’s go for a walk! Central Park, anyone?” Tammy said with a nervous laugh. She was met with groans and whines of disapproval from Daphne, who didn’t want to get her heels dirty, and Constance, who just didn’t want to walk, period.

 

In the lowest voice she could possibly muster (Debbie called it the Scary Mommy voice), Tammy mumbled, “I don’t _care_ what you do or do not want to do, just _move your asses out of this apartment._ Now.”

 

The rest of the group quickly obliged, save for Daphne, who was the last one out the door. As she looked back and forth between Debbie and Lou, Debbie figured she was probably wondering just who the hell she’d gotten herself involved with. She didn’t know the half of it.

 

“Well, good luck with...whatever this is!” Daphne smiled with knowing eyes and flipped her hair as she sauntered away, Tammy shaking her head and shutting the door behind her.

 

The door had been closed for roughly two seconds when Debbie started in on her. “You are _unbelievable_ , you know that?”

 

“Deb, can you give me one minute to explain –”

 

“No! You don’t get to explain! Because every time I think we’re on the same page these days, you say something that proves me wrong, and honestly, Lou? I’m sick of it.”

 

“I turned him down, Deb, okay? It’s not happening, at least not with me.” A pause. “Feel better now?”

 

Debbie folded her arms across her chest and avoided Lou’s gaze.

 

“But you know what?” Lou’s voice was beginning to betray her, sharp and accusatory, primed to say something she knew she would regret later. “What would you have done if I _had_ wanted in?” Lou started moving towards her again, slowly, hoping that Debbie wouldn’t see the way her legs were shaking (she did). “Why does it piss you off so much that I might want to actually do something for myself instead of just being at your beck and call every goddamn day?”

 

“It...doesn’t.” Debbie wandered into the kitchenette, making patterns in the dust on the countertop with her fingertips.

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“It’s just frustrating, okay? Thinking that the only person you actually trust is going to walk away from everything you built together.”

 

Lou cocked her head and raised her eyebrows in faux surprise. “Wow, Deb, tell me again about how _difficult_ and _taxing_ that is for you. Not like you did the same thing to me six years ago.”

 

Lou stared a challenge, and Debbie stared right back.

 

Wavering the tiniest bit by sinking into one of the many barstools but refusing to break eye contact, Lou finally, cautiously, wondered aloud, “This isn’t about the job, is it?”

 

Finally feeling her heartbeat return to her body, Debbie replied, “It was never about the job.”

 

Lou stared up at the ceiling, her mouth moving like she was searching for the words to say. She got out of the chair just as smoothly as she had sat down in it, and was in front of Debbie’s face in a mere five steps.

 

“Look. This,” Lou started, gesturing back and forth between the two of them with her finger, “this works, Deb. It’s always worked. _Why_ are you trying to change it? Why would you –”

 

Without missing a beat, Debbie responded, “Because you are the only thing I have left to lose and I’m not going to let that happen.”

 

“Can you even _hear_ yourself right now? Do you know how long it took for me to figure out how to make _any_ semblance of a life without you here, Deb? You have no _idea_ the shit you put me through, and now you think I’m just gonna give it all up for...what, more risky jobs, maybe some decent pad Thai? Nuh-uh, baby. I’m not an idiot, and neither are you. We both know that’s not how this shit works.”

 

They were standing so close together now, they could hear each other breathing, and if this were any other fight, any other day, they’d be halfway to Lou’s bedroom by now, all sweat and entangled limbs and nails like talons digging into bare skin.

 

“You could’ve just deleted my number, you know.”

 

Lou scoffed and turned around, heading towards the couch and picking up Tammy’s wine glass, rolling the stem back and forth between her fingers.

 

“But you didn’t,” Debbie continued, leaning against the stove and looking down at her. “And you know why you didn’t.”

 

“Maybe I should have.”

 

“But you _didn’t_.” Moving towards the couch, Debbie perched herself on the edge of the loveseat across from Lou. “Be honest. Aren’t you tired of sleeping alone and watering down vodka?”

 

“Who said I slept alone?”

 

“ _Lou._ Come on. You had so much you wanted to do. You wanted to travel, you wanted to write. Why are you settling for this? What are you so afraid of?”

 

Lou raised an eyebrow as her nostrils flared. “I’m _settling_ ,” she spat, “because we aren’t fucking twenty-five anymore, Deb! As hard as this might be for you to believe, I don’t want to keep pulling jobs for the rest of my life! And if you had _any_ self-respect, you’d do the same.”

 

“Where was this attitude a month ago? Oh, right, it was non-existent.”

 

“You keep living your life this way, Deb, you’ll end up dead. You of all people should be able to recognize that now.”

 

“Do _not_ go there, Louann – “

 

“Don’t you _dare_ call me that. And you know I’m right. Danny was reckless and it got him killed. You let that happen to you and you’re officially the biggest idiot I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

 

“Lou, I swear to God, if you say something about my brother one more time, I – “

 

“What? What can you possibly do to me that you haven’t already? The damage is done.” Both women were on their feet again, Debbie keeping an eye trained on the wine glass, hoping that it wouldn’t be thrown at her head.

 

Lou ran a hand through her hair and although she tried her hardest, she couldn’t stop her voice from shaking as she said, “And I don’t know, Deb, maybe if we’d tried to do this ten years ago, things would be different. But now...” she trailed off, staring at nothing particular on the carpet, “...maybe you’re just not what I need anymore.”

 

The words permeated the air as soon as they left Lou’s mouth. As Lou’s eyes widened, Debbie wanted to believe that she hadn’t meant to use those _exact_ words, and for half a second, she did believe it. Then as reality sunk in and that goddamn heat returned to her stomach, she wondered why she still bothered trying.

 

“Fuck you, Lou. You’re a coward. You always have been and you always will be.” Debbie stormed towards the doorway, grabbing her fur coat off the rack. “I’m going out.”

 

Without facing her, Lou replied, “I want you and your shit out of here in a week.”

 

“Oh, it’ll be my pleasure!” With that, Debbie slammed the door and found herself surrounded by crisp night air, the distant smell of sewage, and the pounding of her head. Everything was swimming, she was thinking of roughly 20 different things all at the same time, and as she walked, each step felt heavier than the one before.

 

Debbie Ocean was not stupid.

 

She was not an idiot.

 

And she certainly wasn’t one to avoid learning from her mistakes.

 

Usually.

 

So, when she got so far away from the loft that she quite literally ran into the rest of her crew on their way back, she pushed through them and kept walking.

 

She could hear Tammy calling out to her, asking if she was okay, coaxing her into coming back with them. She briefly registered Amita’s look of concern.

 

She just kept walking.

 

*

_six months later_

Dropping the olive into her glass, Debbie leaned up against the radiator and sighed. Winter in New York was a lot colder than she had remembered, especially at 3 AM. These late, lonely nights had become her norm. Not by choice, of course. Or maybe it was by choice. She wasn’t sure.

 

The rest of the crew was holed up in their respective guest bedrooms, as was the typical Saturday night routine. They made it a point to see each other frequently, especially when one of them was stressed or upset, which Debbie had been for approximately the last six months that Lou had been gone.

 

After Claude was arrested, Debbie, Lou, and Amita were finally able to break the news that the heist was bigger than anyone had previously thought. Everyone’s share of the money was nearly doubled, and as the buzz of happiness radiated throughout the kitchenette, the tension between Lou and Debbie was palpable. No one had bothered to ask what had happened. It was obviously a personal matter, and they would undoubtedly hear both sides and get caught in the middle. Both Amita and Tammy had warned the other four about their infamous fights. The best time to deal with whatever the situation was, was when it was finally over.

 

(And six months later, it still wasn’t over.)

 

The rest of the crew had piled out of the loft that summer day, going to shop or drink or whatever women who had just received over 30 million dollars went to do. Lou had squeezed Debbie’s arm, silently asking her to hang back with a tilt of her head.

 

Handing Debbie a beer, Lou sat on the edge of the couch and cleared her throat. As she spoke, her tone was cool and even and sincere. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. It was awful, it was uncalled for and you didn’t deserve it.” After a pause, she added, “And you know I don’t say this shit to just anyone.”

 

Debbie sized her up. “Do you really believe that?”

 

Lou nodded. “I do.”

 

A good minute of silence passed before Lou spoke again. “I’m leaving, Deb.”

 

A month ago, this would have devastated Debbie. It still did, but now it was a different kind of ache.

 

“When?”

 

“Few days.”

 

“Where?”

 

“You gonna give me anything more than one-word answers? I’m not sure yet. Someplace warm. Maybe California.”

 

Debbie nodded, avoiding her gaze. She could feel steely blue eyes piercing her armor, but refused to give her the upper hand. “Why?”

 

“I was thinking about what you said, actually. About how I had things I wanted to do. And, I mean, life’s short. Now’s as good a time as any.”

 

Debbie was surprised at how indifferent she felt. No hatred, no desperation for her to stay. It was what it was.

 

Lou set her beer down on the coffee table separating them. “Ideally, you’d be coming with me.”

 

Looking up at her for the first time in minutes, Debbie replied, “I think we both know that wouldn’t be a good idea right now.”

 

“Yeah. Just wanted you to know that the offer stands.” With that, Lou picked up her beer and headed towards her bedroom, leaving Debbie alone with her thoughts.

 

The Saturday after their talk, hugs, kind words, and more than a few tears were shared amongst the group as Lou prepared to head out. Nine-Ball even gifted her with a tiny rainbow flag decal for the back of her bike. One by one, the women went back into the loft until only Debbie and Lou remained, Debbie’s back against the concrete wall and Lou leaning on her bike.

 

“Oh, I don’t know if I told you or not,” Lou started, running her fingertips over the leather seat of the motorcycle, “but you can stay in the loft.”

 

“Did you see me making any sort of attempt to leave?” Debbie smirked. “You’ve got the best view in the city.” (In truth, Debbie _had_ been arranging to stay with Tammy on the off-chance that Lou’s threats to kick her out ended up having some validity to them. Thank _God_ she’d be avoiding that mess.)

 

“It is pretty magnificent, isn’t it? Looks a lot nicer once you know you can pay for it.”

 

Debbie chuckled. “I think anything looks nicer when you have 38 million dollars.”

 

“True.” An awkward silence.

 

Debbie started again. “So, who’s watching the club?”

 

“Nine-Ball. She wants to buy her own place, I figured this would be a good start for her. Help get her foot in the door.”

 

Debbie nodded. “Makes sense.”

 

“We got lucky with her.” Lou glanced up at the window of her loft. “All of them, actually.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Lou smiled. “We did good, Deb.”

 

Debbie returned the smile and dipped her head towards her chest.

 

“Hey,” Lou moved a little closer. “Last chance. Wanna come?”

 

“I still can’t believe you’re going through with this.”

 

“I’ll be back.” Lou looked at her, eyes shining. Neither Debbie nor Lou realized that they had intertwined their fingers. “You sticking around?”

 

“Do I have a choice? Someone has to pay to keep the AC on in your place.”

 

Lou laughed. “You’ve always been shit with excuses. How long did it take you to think of that one? Five years, eight months, twelve days...?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Make me.”

 

Debbie smirked. “Fighting words, baby, you sure you want to try me when I could easily slash your tires?”

 

“You wouldn’t.”

 

“I might.”

 

“But you wouldn’t.”

 

A pause.

 

“No, I wouldn’t.” Their hands were clasped at this point, so tight that both were afraid as to what might happen if they were to let go. “Can you answer a question for me? Before you leave.”

 

Lou narrowed her eyes before nodding.

 

“Are we doing this or not?” Debbie gazed up at Lou, all starry-eyed hope, praying for the best, prepared for the worst.

 

Lou leaned down and kissed her lips softly, gently, a kiss that enveloped Debbie in love and care and most importantly, promises for the future. “I’ll see you, Deb.”

 

Letting go of Debbie’s hand and sliding on her helmet, Lou shot Debbie one more smile before starting her bike.

 

“That wasn’t an answer, asshole,” said Debbie, just loud enough for Lou to hear over the roar of the engine. “And I want my jacket back!”

 

Flipping her off and pulling the leather closer to her chest, Lou pulled out onto the street and sped away.

 

Debbie laughed. It might not have been the answer she was looking for, but it was close enough to something good. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep her company for however long Lou was away.

 

And now, six months later, Debbie was starting to lose hope.

 

Sure, she’d been able to hold on to the thought of Lou for six years, but back then she didn’t really have a choice, and now, having done it for an additional six months, it was almost too much to bear. She hadn’t ever worried about what would happen to her if Lou had found someone else. Now, it was all she thought about.

 

In the six months she had been gone, only Nine-Ball had heard from her, briefly, and all she wanted to know was how the club was doing. Debbie had practically interrogated her and Nine-Ball had merely shrugged. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you, Debbie, we didn’t really talk. She sounded good, though. Happy.”

 

Good. She deserved to be happy.

 

But so did Debbie.

 

And she tried. She really did. She was lucky enough to have a group of friends that truly cared about her. Sure, they might only care because they managed to rob the Met and that sort of thing kind of forces you into life-long friendship, but no matter. They cared. They kept her busy. Rose gave her a part-time sales job in her new store on Fifth Avenue. Nine-Ball was teaching her how to code. Amita had started a tiny little garden in the pathetic patch of grass outside the loft, which Debbie tended to when Amita wasn’t there. And Tammy had forced everyone to participate in a monthly book club, which should have been grating, but when there was wine involved, it usually ended up being a pretty good time.

 

Yes, she was thankful for her friends. And she was even more thankful when they gave her space to be alone, or to listen to Lou’s records (she was right, ‘Blank Space’ really was the best song on _1989_ ), because they all knew what it was like to be missing someone or something the way Debbie was right now.

 

Just then, she heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle pulling up outside, gravel crunching underneath the wheels. Debbie almost fell off the couch as she struggled to get up and rush over to the window like she had been doing almost every night for the last six months.

 

Nothing. Dammit.

 

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she moved towards the kitchenette to pour herself some more gin, when suddenly there was a knock on the door.

 

Debbie set her glass down slowly and grabbed the baseball bat that stayed under the sink. It wouldn’t be the first time an unexpected visitor showed up at the loft at three in the morning; although the last time this happened, whatever punk kid who was fucking with them hadn’t expected to get punched in the face by a lanky blonde who wore a few too many rings. On the off-chance it was happening again, Debbie knew there was no way her fists would have the same impact as the bat. She’d learned a few tricks in prison; how to win a fight wasn’t necessarily one of them.

 

Opening the door, she was greeted by the familiar face of...no one. Debbie furrowed her brow and gripped the bat a little tighter. That was strange. She was about to close the door when she saw the plastic bag at her feet. Kneeling down and reaching a hand in, she could have cried.

 

A bag full of boxes of Chinese food.

 

With a note attached.

 

_i’m in if you’re in. xx_

Debbie smiled bigger than she ever had before as she picked up the bag and moved back inside. She locked the chain on the door but kept it cracked open as she stood with her back against the wall, clutching the bag to her chest. Raising her head ever so slightly so she could look out the window, she saw the bike parked in a different spot than it usually was. Of course she wanted to make a grand entrance. _Dumbass_.

 

Debbie heard the click of high-heeled boots getting closer and closer until they stopped, and she felt a slight _thump_ as Lou leaned on the opposite side of the wall, next to the door. Debbie finally spoke when she couldn’t stand the silence any longer, hoping that her voice would remain steady. “What changed your mind?”

 

A low chuckle from the other side of the door sent shivers up and down Debbie’s spine. “You, probably.”  


“Probably?”

 

“Definitely. Definitely you.” Lou cleared her throat (Debbie was starting to think that was a nervous tic), and as nonchalantly as she could muster, simply stated, “You’re my person.”

 

Debbie bit back her smile as she said, “Hmm. Interesting. Did you bring my jacket back?”

 

The worn leather fell at her feet as it was tossed through the crack in the door. Picking up the jacket and inhaling, she smelled cigarettes and Chanel No. 5 and her head spun again for what felt like the millionth time in the past eight months.

 

“How was it? Tell me everything.”

 

“I will, as soon as you _open the door, sweetheart_. Come on, it’s 20 degrees out here and I just gave you my jacket in a _disgustingly_ romantic gesture of love and reconciliation. I’m freezing my ass off and –”

 

“Come here,” Debbie mumbled, unlocking the door and pulling Lou inside with one swift gesture. Every time their lips crashed together, it felt like the first time all over again and Debbie could not get enough. Running her hands blindly through pieces of platinum blonde hair, she held on tightly – a little too tightly, judging by the way Lou squealed and yanked herself away from Debbie. “Jesus, Deb, it’s been six months, not a lifetime. Don’t scalp me.”

 

Debbie just pulled her close again and settled her arms on Lou’s shoulders, running her fingertips over her cheeks. Lou was a little tanner, a little more worn out. Debbie could tell she was exhausted and grateful to be home, and Debbie herself had never been more grateful in her life.

 

“So, what happens now?” she wondered, as Lou rested her head on Debbie’s shoulder.

 

“Figured we’d play it by ear.” Lou’s lips darted over Debbie’s neck as she snuggled in, closing her eyes.

 

“Sounds good to me,” Debbie sighed. And when Lou sleepily said, “I love you...I’ve always loved you”, Debbie stroked her hair and told her, “Took you long enough”, because it finally felt like the truth.

 

They stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, slowly and quietly swaying to music only they could hear, completely oblivious to the six other women who stood on the opposite side of the loft, having woken up in all the commotion. It took every bit of control they had to not burst into applause.

 

“Oh, I _love_ love!” Amita giggled, quickly snapping a picture on her cell phone.

 

“Yoooooo, _finally_!” Constance was practically jumping up and down as the rest of the crew tried to shush her. She turned to Rose with an outstretched palm. “Pay up.”

 

Pulling a crisp twenty out of the pocket of her robe, Rose grumbled in that flustered way of hers. “They couldn’t have held off for 24 more hours...”

 

“Of course not. They’ve procrastinated long enough already.” Tammy’s arms were crossed and she was shaking her head, but her grin was ear-to-ear. “They’re pretty perfect together, huh?”

 

The women nodded in agreement, not knowing what else to say to that.

 

“Think they’ll stay together?” Nine-Ball asked, only half joking.

 

“They will,” replied Daphne, staring down at Lou and Debbie with ever-perceptive eyes. “This time is different.”

 

And as Debbie stood there holding on to the only person she wanted in the whole world, feeling Lou smile against her skin, she knew that Daphne was right.

 

This time was finally different.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest thing I've ever written, period. I grew really fond of the idea that D+L spent the entire movie avoiding their obvious feelings for each other because they are PETULANT CHILDREN. I also didn't intend for this to be a Debbie introspective, but I don't hate it!
> 
> and although I'm pretty sure both of them were OOC, I tried my best, and it's the thought that counts (????)
> 
> again, please leave comments!! and if you have any ideas for further fics for these two, i can't make any promises but i'd love to hear them!


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